


Mistaken Identity

by eideann



Category: He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, He-Man and the Masters of the Universe (2002), Jonny Quest, The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest
Genre: Abduction, Canon-Typical Violence, Dimension Travel, Extortion, Gen, Magic, MotU 2002
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eideann/pseuds/eideann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of magic gone awry as Skeletor casts a summoning spell to net Randor, King of Eternia, and misses by a mile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My Jonny Quest stories tend to mix and match from both shows. This one portrays the boys as the age they are in the original show, but in the modern era, and Dr. Quest is from the original show.

Evil-Lyn stood beside Skeletor, waiting impatiently. He had summoned her to witness the effects of a "new and magnificent" spell he had found that would enable him to get hold of Randor. She wished he would hurry up and finish it, so that she could get back to her own research. She had no doubts whatsoever that it would fail, and then she would be forced to listen to the idiot rant for hours about how everyone was conspiring against him. Again.

The Lord of Snake Mountain had not permitted her to look at the spell or its components, for which she was grateful. At least this way, she would have a reasonable explanation for why the undertaking's inevitable failure wasn't her fault.

Skeletor had informed her in tones of insufferable confidence that at the spell's conclusion, Randor would be standing in the middle of the cell that was ten feet in front of them. Perhaps the blue-skinned oaf believed that the king of Eternia would be easier to control if he materialized behind bars of hardened steel.

Her attention was diverted from a contemplation of Skeletor's many shortcomings when the volume of the idiot's chanting abruptly increased, and a shaft of light from nowhere shone down on the paper that was the central focus of the casting. Energy erupted within the tiny space, and suddenly, just as Skeletor let out a triumphant last few syllables, a man appeared, standing in the middle of the cell.

Evil-Lyn let out a peal of laughter which she swiftly suppressed. The Lord of Snake Mountain didn't take kindly to ridicule. Skeletor stared, transfixed, at the prize he had caught.

The man seemed to be completely thunderstruck, staring at Skeletor, who was directly in front of him. Like Randor, he had a beard and mustache, and blue eyes, but there the physical resemblance ended. He was a slender man of middle years and height, with red hair. Evil-Lyn raised an eyebrow, appraising their guest. This was not a man for whom physical activity was important, she surmised. He wore long, loose trousers of some sort of fine tan fabric, belted with a slender strip of brown leather drawn through loops of the same material at the waistband. His shoes were also brown, and clearly not designed for hard walking. His shirt was blue, and, oddly, it was tucked inside his trousers. Buttons ran up the center front, and the collar was peculiarly constructed. It had pointed flaps that folded down from the neckline and were buttoned to the main body of the shirt. The topmost button of the blue shirt was undone, revealing that he was wearing a white shirt with a round neck beneath it that appeared to be of a different sort of fabric. Atop all of this, he wore a white surcoat that was open down the front, though it had buttons as well and could clearly be closed. It had similar flaps at the neck, though these had no buttons. There were pockets at the hips of both the trousers and the surcoat, and a single pocket on the blue shirt, above the left breast.

In one of his hands he held a glass vial with an extremely narrow neck that broadened out conically to a wide circular base. It contained an amber fluid that was swirling as though the man had been agitating it before his abrupt arrival at Snake Mountain.

"Who is this?" Skeletor demanded irritably.

Evil-Lyn strove to keep her tone calm and reasonable, rather than mirthful. "Well, it's certainly not the king of Eternia," she said.

The 'overlord of evil' strode across to the cell door. Interestingly, the man's eyes narrowed angrily, but he held his ground, not backing away. "Who are you?" Skeletor demanded.

The man's eyebrows raised, and he tilted his head. He responded in an unfamiliar language, clearly asking a question. When Skeletor's brows merely lowered and he didn't speak, the man spoke again. This time, she thought, he was speaking a different language. He paused again, then, if Evil-Lyn wasn't mistaken, reiterated his question in yet another tongue. When this occurred a fourth time, Skeletor threw his hands up into the air and turned to her.

"Don't you have a spell that will permit you to speak and understand foreign languages?" he asked.

Controlling her amusement with some difficulty, Evil-Lyn said, "Yes, Lord Skeletor. But I can only cast it on myself, and it only works one-on-one. You will not be able to understand him."

Skeletor's eyes glowed red, and she could see that he was becoming angry. "Fine. Let me explain to you what I want you to discover from him, then." She nodded patiently, failing to conceal her air of smugness. "The spell relies upon creatures from the plane of Athure to seek out a person and bring him to the caster's location. The target must be described in terms of his physical appearance and his relationships to others."

"I see."

"Here is the paper on which I have written the descriptions I used. I want to know how well this man matches these descriptions so I can determine how better to describe Randor to capture him." So saying, he thrust the page of vellum into her hands and stalked out of the room. She watched him leave, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

Then she raised her staff, cast her spell and turned to the man in the cell. "Good afternoon, sir," she said and waited to see if he would respond. This spell could be finicky, and might need some finessing to make sure it was properly effective.

"Do you have some sort of translation device?" he asked curiously. "Your lips are not following your words."

She raised a single eyebrow. "Something of the sort," she said. "I see it's working. What is your name?"

He shook his head. "Who are you and what do you want with me?" he asked, glaring at her.

"Well," she said slowly, giving him an amused look. "Let me assure you, your presence here is entirely in error. My . . . colleague . . ." She glanced over her shoulder toward the exit Skeletor had taken. "He made a mistake that brought you here. I'm simply going to try and ascertain what that mistake was so we can solve the problem."

The man pursed his lips. "How did he bring me here? Some form of teleportation? How did he manage the matter transference?"

Evil-Lyn rolled her eyes. Raising her staff again, she conjured two comfortable chairs, one inside the cell and one directly behind her. The man's eyes widened and she smiled. Sitting down, she said, "Please, be seated." He glanced behind him and saw the chair. Giving her an odd look, he sat down, placing the vial on the floor next to him, and waited for her to speak. She was very impressed by his calm acceptance of the situation. Most of the men she was acquainted with would be at the bars screaming curse words and demanding immediate release. "Now, sir, I don't entirely understand your questions, but to answer the first, you were summoned here by means of creatures from the plane of Athure."

"Summoned?" the man repeated. "I don't understand."

"Skeletor magically contacted some of the denizens of the plane of Athure, which are notoriously literal-minded and mischievous creatures, and, giving them a description of the man he wanted found, sent them out to find him." His eyes had grown very wide. "They delivered you."

"You're saying that I was brought here by means of a magical spell?" he asked, sounding shocked.

She tilted her head. "How else?"

"Well, there are several scientists I can think of offhand who are working on matter transference technology, and I know there are other techniques that are being experimented with. Who do you work for? Why am I here?"

She shrugged. "I don't know anything of these scientists. Your presence is, as I explained earlier, a mistake. My Lord Skeletor, whom you have already seen, made an error in his casting which led to you rather than the man he actually sought."

"How very odd," he said witn a bemused expression on his face. "I'm used to being the target, not the innocent bystander. Are you going to release me?"

"That isn't my decision," Evil-Lyn said dismissively. "Now, what is your name?"

"I am Doctorbentonquest," he said.

"That's quite a long name," she commented.

He gave her a dubious look. "Fairly ordinary, I would say. Where am I?"

"Snake Mountain."

He shook his head. "What country am I in? I don't recognize the language that strangely masked man was speaking."

** Masked? And where is this fellow from that he doesn't know who Skeletor is? ** "We're not in a country. This is the Dark Hemisphere. Where are you from?"

"The Dark Hemisphere of what?" he asked. "And what do you mean 'we're not in a country'?"

"This is getting us nowhere, Doctorbentonquest," she said, shaking her head. "I have questions for you which you must answer. Then we can address the question of whether or not Skeletor will send you home."

His brows knit. "Doctor Quest is sufficient, young lady," he said. "Doctor is my title, Quest is my surname. Benton is my given name." He leaned forward. "And I'm beginning to suspect I'm not in Kansas anymore. What is this place?"

She blinked. "I don't understand your naming customs, I see. You are from someplace called Kansas?"

He opened his mouth, but then the bemused look came over his face again. "More or less," he said. "What is your name?"

"Evil-Lyn," she said. "Now, to the point of this interview." She raised the paper and scanned its contents, barely refraining from laughing aloud. Skeletor had thought this was sufficient description? He didn't even mention Randor's hair color in the physical description, or his height. Scanning further down, she asked, "You have a son with blond hair and blue eyes, who is not yet a man?"

He stood abruptly, anger writ in every line of his body. "What about him?" he demanded, managing to loom even through the bars. ** Neat trick! ** she thought in amusement.

"I'll take that for a yes," she said calmly, moving to the next point. "You have a close friend who works for you, one who has a particularly strong devotion to your son?"

"Why are you asking these questions?" Doctor Quest demanded.

She gave him an irritated look. "Please sit down, Doctor Quest," she said. "Or I will take more stringent measures to force your cooperation." He glared at her, but he sat down, crossing his arms and continuing to stare icily. "Very good," she said. "Now, please answer my question."

"I don't think so," he said. "If my presence is a mistake, why do you want to know more information about my household?"

She raised a scornful eyebrow. "I told you that Skeletor gave the Athurites a description of the man he sought. Clearly it was insufficient. I am seeking similarities and differences so that the description can be improved upon."

He raised his eyebrows. "I see. That does seem a logical course of action. May I ask what you intend to do with this other man if you obtain him?"

"That hardly seems to be your business. The sooner we can work out what went wrong, however, the more likely you are to be returned to your home." He stared at her without responding. She glanced down at the vellum. "So, I asked if you have a man working for you who -"

"No," he said flatly, and she had the strong suspicion that he was not referring to the question. "No, I will not help you to capture someone else."

"You haven't really got a choice," she said.

"I can refuse to answer your questions," he replied. "And I do."

Her eyes narrowed to thin slits. "Would it help if I told you that the man we seek is a villainous rogue who ravages the countryside and tortures his people?"

He blinked at her. "No, I really don't think it would. You see, I don't think I'd believe you if you were to tell me that." He gave her an annoying grin. "Why, were you going to?"

She resisted the impulse to shoot a blast of lightening at him. "You are impertinent!"

"And you're holding me prisoner for no reason other than your boss made a mistake. I'm not interested in aiding you to imprison someone else."

Evil-Lyn stood up and walked to the bars of the cell. "Well, you have let slip the fact that you have a young son and that you care about him greatly. I have more skill in the summoning department than Skeletor does, and I have you. I could bring your son here from wherever he is. Would you then answer my questions?"

His eyes widened with alarm and she could see that she'd hit the mark she'd been aiming at. Then his gaze grew even more hostile than it had been before, his eyes narrowing. "Did you suppose that you were the first villains to capture me?"

"What makes you think we're villains, Doctor Quest?"

He crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair, giving her an unfriendly look. "I don't know what you want with this other man, but the simple fact that you've drawn me here, into this cell, and have not returned me to my home upon discovering your mistake, suggests that your intentions are neither good nor honorable. And I don't think you'd be foolish enough to attempt to capture my son."

This man's calm defiance was infuriating, but Evil-Lyn decided to accept this for the moment. For one thing, if she simply allowed him to believe that she had agreed to leave his son alone, when the time came to fetch him, Doctor Quest's distress at the appearance of the boy would be all the greater. She just hoped that Skeletor would have a little patience today.

"Very well," she said, leaning back in her chair. "Let me tell you a few things about Randor, and perhaps you can simply confirm the differences."

"I can't stop you from saying whatever you want to say, my dear," Doctor Quest said. "But I won't help you." So it was to be a contest of wills and of perception. He might be surprised how much he was going to help her without ever intending to.

* * *

Benton watched the woman's eyebrow rise slightly, clearly in anticipation of the challenge. He'd have to school his expressions well with this one. She was clearly very smart, and older than she looked, he'd wager.

He sat in this comfortable chair, which seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, gazing at her, yet taking in every detail of his surroundings. This cell appeared to be hewn from the living rock. Bars of some sort of dark metal covered the opening, and there was a lock that he was certain Race could pick with his eyes closed, using a pencil. He wasn't sure how to take this notion of "summoning." Her clear implication was that magic, not science, had brought him here. Though he was more inclined than the average man to believe in supernatural explanations for events, that was a bit much to swallow, even if it did explain the suddenness of his arrival.

"The man Skeletor was seeking is Randor, King of Eternia." Benton looked behind her, trying to get a covert view of the room she was sitting in. ** Wait, king of where? ** His eyes focused on her face as she went on. "He has a sixteen-year-old son named Adam, a cowardly blond boy of some athletic ability. His closest friend, who also acts as Eternia's Man-at-Arms, is the boy's mentor. No one is entirely certain just what Man-at-Arms is teaching him, for he is no soldier."

Benton grimaced irritably and looked behind her again. This appeared to be some kind of laboratory. There were beakers of various shapes and sizes, containing a wide variety of unidentifiable substances. His brow furrowed. Were those chains ending in manacles on the opposite wall?

The woman, Evelyn, or whatever her name was, looked around and saw the direction of his gaze. "Ah, yes, Skeletor has some unsavory entertainments. I tend to avoid this room when he's got prisoners in here."

He shrugged, smiling slightly. "I've run into the type before," he said. "As I said, young woman, I'm more accustomed to being the target of abduction than not."

She smiled slowly. "Interesting. Do you mind if I ask why?"

"I don't mind if you ask," he replied politely. "But I have no intention of answering."

Her eyes snapped violet fire at him, and he returned her glare with a bland look. Her clothing was outlandish. She looked as though she were preparing to appear on some form of science fiction - or perhaps fantasy - television show. Perhaps Xena, Warrior Princess. Jonny and Hadji had watched that show obsessively for a while. This woman's garb was all purple and black with bone decorations, and bared most of her arms and all of her legs to the tops of her knee-high boots. He rolled his eyes. Jessie would laugh if she could see her. Race's daughter was always making fun of the women in those fantasy films for showing off more skin than anyone should in a battle situation.

"Frankly I don't believe these claims of yours," she said, her tone growing strident. "If you had really run into someone like Skeletor in the past, you would not dismiss your peril so lightly."

He shrugged. "You may believe what you like. I don't feel the need to prove myself to you."

"Perhaps the real reason you are so unconcerned is that you don't believe we will harm you - or anyone else we get hold of?" Her eyes were hostile as she said this, and she fingered the staff she held at her side as she spoke.

Benton rigidly controlled his nerves, not wanting to show how much this threat worried him. "I am not unconcerned. I simply don't see the point of babbling in fear, and I don't choose to give way to your demands simply because you have made them."

She eyed him assessingly. "Well, why don't I continue in my description of Randor?" she said. He shrugged. "Randor is a tall man, broadly built, a swordfighter of unusual prowess." Her eyes roamed his figure, and he ignored her attempt to make him feel insecure. "He has dark hair, longer than yours, and his beard is less closely trimmed."

An unpleasant odor reached his nostrils, and he glanced down at his Erlenmeyer flask. The contents were beginning to bubble, and he raised an eyebrow. "You might want to find me a way to dispose of that," he said, glancing up at her.

She stood up and peered in. "Is it dangerous?"

He snorted. "I wish. If it was, you'd be wearing it." Her eyes flashed with ire and he said, "No, it's merely degrading and will stink to high heaven before long."

She pointed the crystal sphere on the end of her staff at it and a beam of light shot out, annihilating the contents of the flask, while leaving the glass intact. "We can't have that," she said. "Now -"

The door behind her slammed open and a pair of . . . people . . . ran in. One appeared to be a man in some kind of protective gear, and the other was a bee that was well over six feet tall. Benton leapt out of the chair in alarm. The woman did, too, and she lowered her staff at them, firing off a lightning bolt at the bee, which leapt into the air, agilely dodging the bolt and flying straight at her. She pressed back against the bars, but then a blast of energy hit the bee, knocking him against the wall. Benton looked across the room and saw a tall, wiry man with blue skin and what appeared to be a red metal prosthetic jaw. One of his arms seemed to be a cannon of some variety. The bee slammed into the wall and fell to the ground. The woman moved away from the cell door and aimed her staff at the man in the protective suit.

The cyborg yelled something incomprehensible at her, to which she replied, "They must be after him, though how they know he's here is beyond me!"

An enormous man wearing a flat-topped helm and a red tunic came in behind the cyborg and slammed him to the ground with a club the size of Race's leg. The man in the protective suit ran up to the bars and stared through them. Benton backed away, around the chair. He was no man. Though his body was a man's, the face inside the helmet was that of a green, bug-eyed monster. ** When am I going to wake up? Now would good! ** Putting his hands on the bars, the monster pulled, spreading them wide enough for Benton to squeeze through. When he was done, something happened that was enough to make Benton fall over from astonishment.

The creature's head, within the suit, spun, and a new face was revealed, that of a man with very odd coloring. He reached out a hand through the bars and spoke. Benton couldn't understand a word. He looked around to see where the woman had gone. She may have been an amoral villain, but at least he could understand her. She, however, was nowhere to be seen.

The bee was up on its feet now, and looking around the room as he rubbed his head. His wings whirred loudly. Abruptly, a young woman darted into the room, nimbly jumping over the fallen cyborg. She spoke first to the behemoth who now stood stolidly, his club at the ready. Then she spoke to the bee and finally she walked over to the cell.

The bizarre, multi-faced creature pointed at him and said something. The girl stepped into the cell. She had immensely long red hair, much the same color as Jessie's, and her eyes were green. Her garments were exceptionally brief and Benton found himself looking away. It seemed foolish, however. Jessie's last bathing suit showed considerably more of her body. The girl carried a long cobra-headed staff, and she peered in at him uneasily.

She spoke to him, a long string of fluid syllables that meant nothing to his ears. He shook his head. "I don't understand."

Her brows knit and she shrugged. She beckoned to him urgently. Then there was a chime and she picked up a small box at her belt. To his eyes it looked to be some form of communicator. A voice spoke, and she responded. Her eyes grew first worried, then annoyed and finally distressed as the voice continued to speak. She turned to the others in the room and gave some sort of command. Then she beckoned once more to him. He started slowly towards her, but when he didn't move swiftly enough for her tastes, she peremptorily grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the cell.

It was an odd company, and he had no idea whether or not he was going from the frying pan to the fire, but he went with them. Just as the reached the door, however, he caught the girl's arm and held up a finger. He dashed back and snatched up the bit of vellum Evelyn had been fiddling with while she questioned him. He had a strong suspicion that it was of some importance. He turned back and joined them where they were waiting impatiently.

Fortunately for his comfort, the bee had taken off already and flew off ahead of them. They arrived outside in twilit darkness on a ledge over an enormous lava field. The heat rose off it in waves. He looked around and realized that there was no way he was anywhere on Earth. Not his Earth, at any rate. The large man took his arm and said something. He looked up in startlement into a pair of very blue, very earnest, very innocent eyes. Persuaded by the expression of anxious concern he saw there, he allowed himself to be helped into a vehicle which almost immediately took off.

They flew away over the lava fields, which seemed to stretch broadly over the countryside. Far more broadly than he would have expected. Gradually, the fields of lava thinned and they came to a land that was merely desolate and dark. With the lava left behind, much of the ambient light was gone as well. He looked up see a sky full of star formations that were utterly unfamiliar. ** Where in the universe am I? ** he wondered. ** And how are Race and the kids going to find me here? **

Benton was slumped in the back of the flying vehicle, surrounded by strangers who didn't speak his language. When a light appeared in the sky on the horizon, he sat up and peered forward. The young woman spoke to him, pointing toward the light.

He shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, miss, I don't understand you." He considered trying other languages, but he was persuaded that he was not anywhere that French, Japanese or Arabic was going to be understood. She kept trying, and he kept repeating himself. She was a very persistent child. Unlike the woman back at Snake Mountain, she seemed very young for all that she was clearly in charge of this troop of mismatched warriors. The large man sat in the copilot's seat while the peculiar creature who had freed him from his cell piloted the vehicle. The bee flew ahead of them, apparently scouting the territory.

Benton was just glad the creature wasn't any closer. He liked to think he was a fairly open-minded man, but he did have a prejudice that insects should be smaller than he was.

They landed in a large courtyard, and as soon as they were on the ground, the girl in the seat next to him leapt out of the vehicle and ran over to a large man with a mustache and a pony tail. She threw herself into his arms. The other warriors climbed out of the vehicle, and the large man put out a hand to help Benton down. He shook his head and jumped down on his own. He wasn't completely helpless, after all.

He found himself the center of attention. A tall man wearing a dark red tunic, a white fur cape and a coronet walked toward him. His hair was dark and fell loosely around his face, and he wore a beard. Benton looked up and him and said, "Randor?"

The man's eyes widened, but when he responded, Benton could only shake his head. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

The girl walked up and spoke to the man who must be her king. The man with the pony tail walked up and the trio had a brief conference after which Randor put a hand on Benton's shoulder and gestured toward one of the buildings.

Keeping a wary eye on the bee, he accompanied the king inside. The bee and the other warriors seemed to be heading elsewhere, leaving him with the king and his . . . man at arms, perhaps, and the young woman. They led him into a pleasant room with wide windows where a woman was fussing over a young man, a blond boy of teen-aged years. Benton looked at him with interest. He had a cut on his forehead, and the woman seemed to be heckling the older man who was bandaging it.

The girl walked up and said something that he thought included the word "Adam" in it, but he wasn't entirely sure. But from the mixture of exasperation and fondness on Randor's face, he'd guess that this was the king's son, and Jonny's counterpart in the spell if Evelyn was to be believed.

The boy opened his mouth to speak, looking curiously at Benton, but then a tiny creature in a red tunic flew into view and right up to Benton. He had a red pointed hat, a gold belt and wore a scarf that masked his face. Only glowing yellow eyes showed above it.

Startled, nearly past his ability to cope with the realities he was faced with, Benton let out a yelp and stumbled backward. The creature turned toward Randor and spoke. Randor answered him, and the creature's eyes widened. He said something that sounded maniacally cheerful, then raised his hands above his head and began to chant something

Randor spoke in an alarmed voice, but before he could do anything, light flashed from the creature's blue hands, nearly blinding Benton. Then the creature spoke again. "Hello! What's your name?"

Benton blinked. "You speak English?" he asked.

"Nope. The spell just translates for you. And me."

Benton shook his head. "What are you?" he asked in a breathless voice.

"The court jester," he said. "And sort of the court magician. My name's Orko."

"Orko, you did it!" the girl said. "Your spell actually worked!"

"Orko?" Benton repeated, feeling very dazed, barely even noticing that the girl's words were comprehensible. "Not from Ork, please, not for Ork."

"Ork?" the creature said in puzzlement. "No, I'm from Trolla."

Stunned, Benton had images of little tiny blue creatures from a children's cartoon. "Smurfs?" He was slowly backing away when he bumped into something at just above knee level. Expecting to find a dog, he glanced down into the eyes of a large green and yellow tiger. He opened his mouth, aware that a scream was on its way, and then his eyes rolled up into his head and he passed out.

"So, my dear Evil-Lyn," Skeletor said, crimson light flashing in his eyes. "Just what did our visitor say before the masters arrived and took him away?

"Nothing of import," Evil-Lyn replied. "He refused to answer my questions point blank. All I know for certain is that he has a young son who is, in fact, blond, and that he was hostile towards me."

"That's not much use, Evil-Lyn," Skeletor replied. "And since those idiotic masters rescued him so promptly, we have to assume that he has some importance."

"He did say he's used to being abducted."

"Well that seems a little odd, don't you think?"

"It certainly suggests that there's something of interest about him." She smiled slyly. "Would you like me to fetch his son? I have a strong suspicion that he'll be more cooperative when the boy's here."

Skeletor let out a delighted chuckle. "Yes, Evil-Lyn, I think that would be quite suitable."


	2. Chapter 2

Benton was on his back, on a soft surface. Praying devoutly that he would awaken to find that he was in his own bed and that his dinner of pizza and beer had been the source of strange dreams, he opened his eyes. Hovering over him was the old man he'd seen bandaging the boy earlier. He closed his eyes and let out a despairing sigh.

"I'm sorry, sir, you're still here," the old man said. "Can you sit up, or are you still feeling unwell?" Benton struggled to a sitting position. He was in a bed in a large room with only the old man, the king, and the man with the pony tail there.

"I'm fine," Benton said. "Just a slight headache."

"Here, drink this. It's a nutritional supplement. It should help."

Benton took the cup, which contained a green beverage. He took a tentative sip and grimaced at the sickly-sweet taste. The king stood by the side of the bed. "I am Randor, King of Eternia," Benton nodded. Fortunately the fellow didn't seem to expect anything else. Gesturing at the old man, he said, "This is Dorgan, my chief healer." The other man stood at the foot of the bed. "And this is Duncan, my man-at-arms."

"I see."

"May I ask your name?"

"I am Dr. Benton Quest." They were giving him the same odd looks that the woman had given him earlier and he sighed. "Benton Quest. Doctor is a title referring to my level of education, and Quest is my surname." They still looked puzzled. "My family name."

The king nodded. "What should I call you?"

"Benton would be fine," he said.

Randor lifted his hand in which he held the vellum. "What's this?" he asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Benton replied. "I can't read it. Evelyn kept referring to it as she spoke to me, and I got rather the impression it was important."

"Evelyn?" Duncan said. "Do you mean Evil-Lyn?"

Benton blinked. "Evil Lyn? You have to be kidding. I thought it was a variant pronunciation."

"No, it's an affectation," Duncan said dryly. Benton snorted.

"Can you tell us what you were doing there?"

"Yes, that's - they were attempting to capture you." Randor's eyes widened with shock. "According to that young woman, a man called Skeletor was attempting to summon creatures that would fetch you and place you in the cell your people found me in. Unfortunately, he missed, evidently through not being specific enough?"

"Evil-Lyn told you all that?" Duncan asked, exchanging a worried look with Randor.

He nodded. "She was attempting to elicit information from me to discover where the spell went wrong. What the differences between us were." They were all standing around him, staring down at him. "Would you mind sitting down or something? You're sort of looming."

"Of course," Randor said, pulling a chair over to the side of the bed. "I don't entirely understand."

"Neither do I," Benton admitted. "I gather that magic is somewhat commonplace around here?"

"Well, not commonplace," Duncan objected. "Very few people can do it, and fewer still have any real power."

Benton nodded. "Yes, I understand, but what I mean is, it's not entirely unexpected. Not viewed as an impossibility?"

"No, of course not," Randor said.

"Well, it is where I come from, so you'll have to forgive me if I find it all a little difficult to explain." He sighed, pursing his lips ruefully. "I'd like to take time to give it proper study, but I must return home."

Randor looked down at the page in his hand. "If I'm understanding you correctly, then this is a list of similarities between the two of us."

"As I said, I can't read it. What does it say?"

The man began reading it off, and it did sound as though he was right. Leaders of men, bearded, blue-eyed, each with a blond, blue-eyed son who was not yet a man, a good friend who was also an employee and who was devoted to that son. The friend a soldier of great skill and renown . . . Benton started shaking his head as it went on and on.

"Does it not match?" Randor asked when he was done and had noticed his guest's reaction.

"All too well, actually," Benton said. "Down to the son having a devoted pet and a close friend who was capable of magic. Hadji isn't exactly a magician, but he does have mystical abilities that I can't explain."

"I see. And Evil-Lyn was asking you where we differed?" Benton nodded. "What did you tell her?"

"Nothing," he replied. "It's not in my nature to aid some evil witch to capture someone else. She had started to describe you, trying to elicit reactions that would give her additional information about me when your people came in. Why was that, by the way?"

"They thought Adam and I had been captured," Duncan said, looking somewhat sheepish. "We had a small accident. The windraider we were in had crashed and it's radio was damaged."

"And that caused your people to raid this 'Snake Mountain' place?"

"Well, Skeletor has captured Adam in the past," Randor said. "And he's made attempts to capture Duncan. It was a reasonable possibility when they didn't come in on time. They had also strayed considerably from their planned course . . ." The king's voice trailed off, and he looked irritably at his man-at-arms.

"I explained that, your highness," Duncan said defensively.

"Well, now is neither the time nor place for such a conversation in any case." Randor looked off into the distance and then down at Benton's face. "Tell me, Benton, how old is your son?"

Benton felt a flash of panic. He didn't really know any more about these people than he had about Evil-Lyn and her crew, though he did have a sense that he could trust them. And he remembered Randor's expression when he'd looked at his own son. "He's nine," Benton said, grimacing. "The son that's described there at any rate. My older son is eleven."

"You have two sons?" Randor asked. "There's a key difference right there. Adam was the only child Marlena and I had."

"Well, depending on how fussy the creatures were, Hadji might not count in any case," Benton said musingly. "He is my son by any measure I care to use, but I have read some tales of magic wherein the blood bond is more important than something like the relationship Hadji has to our family."

"What relationship is that?" Randor asked curiously.

"I adopted Hadji two and a half years ago, when he was nine."

Randor and Duncan exchanged an interesting look. Benton wondered what they were thinking. "No, the spell might not take that into account," Duncan said thoughtfully.

"I really have to get home. The boys will worry, and Race will be beside himself."

"Is this Race the friend mentioned in the spell?" Randor asked. "The soldier?"

"Of great skill and renown, yes." Benton snorted, remembering the list of descriptions. "Oh, and Race has a fiery daughter who is a redhead." Duncan raised an eyebrow. As Race's counterpart in the spell, he must have a similar child . . . ah, yes, the girl who had rescued him. She must be Duncan's daughter. "Race is Jonny's bodyguard. He was assigned by the government to my family shortly after my wife's death when Jonny was six." As always, Benton felt a stab of pain at the thought of Rachel.

There was a silence, and then Randor said, "I'm so sorry. That must have been a terrible loss." Benton nodded. "And it's another difference. You've seen Marlena, though I don't know how much notice you would have taken of her in your condition."

"I saw her," Benton said. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth worriedly. "I have to get home. Jonny will be frantic. This sort of thing happens to us from time to time, and he always worries a lot."

"This sort of thing?" Dorgan asked, his voice breaking.

"Abductions," Benton growled. "I've been kidnapped a number of times in the past, as, unfortunately, has Jonny." They were all three staring at him in astonishment. "I'm a scientist and an inventor, and I've been involved in a number of projects that interest people on both sides of the line. Some people want to prevent me from stopping them, some people want me to work for them, and some just want to kill me. There are a variety of reasons why it happens."

Randor gave Duncan a wry look and said, "That's why Skeletor's after Duncan. He's our inventor."

Benton shook his head. "But, you see, Jonny will have all sorts of possible villains in mind. Lord only knows what they'll do. Especially the boys, who tend to be somewhat impetuous and very over-confident."

"I could wish Adam would catch some of that," Randor muttered, and Benton noticed a dismayed expression on Duncan's face.

He shook his head. "No, you don't!" he exclaimed. Randor looked surprised. "If your son stays out of trouble, just thank your stars. Every time Jonny goes out of my sight, I'm terrified that I'll never see him again. Hadji's the same way. You add Jessie into the mix, and it's a recipe for disaster."

"Jessie?"

"Race's daughter." He glanced over at Duncan. "I gather from the list that you have a daughter. Is it that girl who led the party which rescued me?" Duncan nodded. "Jessie and she, I would wager, have a fair amount in common. She's a year older than Jonny."

"Teela is about that much older than Adam," Duncan said.

Randor appeared to have remained fixated on their sons, however, for he said, "Yes, but my son will one day be king."

Benton tilted his head. "So? Domestic policy is far more important than being a war leader." He shrugged. "You can hire any boob to be a general."

Duncan snorted, and the healer looked more amused than the comment warranted. Randor turned slightly red and said, "My sole qualification for this job is that I was the war leader for my people."

"Don't talk nonsense," Dorgan said gruffly, causing his king to turn to him in surprise. Benton watched the interplay between their expressions, fascinated. These two men had clearly known one another for decades. "You have a considerable number of other qualifications. As does Adam, for that matter."

"Yes, Randor," Duncan said, giving his king a wry look. "If it was simply the fact of being a war leader that made you king, the Elders would have chosen me. I am the better fighter."

"That's debatable," Randor said, glowering. "Nevertheless, a king must be a warrior."

"I do have some understanding of what you're talking about, actually," Benton said. "One day, Jonny will be the head of Quest Enterprises, which is larger than some small countries where I'm from."

"Quest Enterprises?" Randor repeated curiously.

"It's a corporation." When it was clear that they didn't recognize this term. "A business entity, with thousands of employees all over the world. When I'm gone, Jonny will inherit it."

"What about your other son?" Duncan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Benton blinked, somewhat startled by the question. "Actually, they'll probably each of them take on different aspects of the organization. Hadji will no doubt focus on pure science. Jonny has always been more of a people person."

Randor shook his head, seeming puzzled. "A 'people person'?" he asked.

"He has better people skills than Hadji," Benton said, nodding.

"Really?" Duncan said. "Adam has excellent people skills." His king turned the puzzled look on him. "All the treaties and negotiations he's managed. He does very well with diplomacy." He chuckled. "And quite aside from that, just look at him at court. How he keeps up the balancing act between all those match-making mamas is beyond me."

Benton sighed. "Ah, yes, those have started descending in our neck of the woods as well. If we didn't live on an island, we'd have a bigger problem with them, I suspect. As it is, I'm inundated with letters and cards and e-mails and phone calls from old friends with eligible daughters. And not all of them were even friends. Some are just people I met once at a conference and who can't even remember my name correctly." Randor was giving him an amused and understanding look. "The ones I really hate are the ones who show up for unannounced visits. 'Brendan, would you mind putting me up for a few days?' I've always wanted to do some deep sea fishing, and you did say I should come visit you.' Oddly, though, I can't seem to recall issuing nearly as many invitations as are accepted."

"I have encountered that phenomenon as well," Randor said, "though to a lesser degree, I think."

Benton snorted. "I expect you have more minions to fob them off for you."

Duncan nodded. "We spend a lot of time fobbing. I once frightened off a countess with nine daughters."

To Benton's bemusement, he and Randor turned identical expressions of dismay on the man and said, "Nine?" in near unison.

"Countess Alyana." He chortled. "I gave her a list of the required qualifications for a crown princess. It sent her off very quickly. Four of the nine are already married now, and a fifth is betrothed."

"You've been keeping track?" Randor asked.

"Very close track, actually."

"Good God," Benton muttered. "Nine?"

"But, Duncan, there is no list of qualifications for a crown princess," Randor said, sounding bewildered.

"I invented one. We took it partially from a historical novel and partially from Marlena's actual experiences as queen. We made it just this side of incredible, and uncomfortably paranoid. It's proven effective against several overly anxious noblewomen now."

"Marlena helped you develop this list?" Duncan nodded. "I'm glad I let you two handle these things. I'd probably have a heart attack."

"You say it's warded off noblewomen," Benton said curiously. "What about the fathers?"

"Oh, they get a different list. And the warning that their precious daughter will have to start training with Teela. It's proven even more effective." Benton snorted.

Dorgan glared at them all. "I do believe we've gotten off the subject. Randor, you really must lay off the pressure on Adam. He clearly cannot live up to the example you set, and the stress is wearing on him. Forgive me for mentioning this in front of our guest, but this is the first decent opportunity I've had to say anything, and it's been concerning me for some weeks now."

"What?" Randor said. "I don't understand."

Benton nodded. "It's not at all uncommon. The sons of famous, respected fathers, especially those who are foremost in their fields, always have that sort of difficulty. Jonny's only nine, and I've already seen signs of it."

"What about Hadji?"

"It's different for him. He's not my son by birth, so people don't seem to have the same expectations of him." Benton glanced over at Dorgan. "You see, it's not just the fathers that put these pressures on young men, it's everyone else as well. A boy gets the sense that he must grow into his father's shoes, even if they could never fit."

"I certainly don't expect Adam to be an exact duplicate of me," Randor said, grimacing. "I just want him to have all the tools he needs to be a good king."

"Well, then find him a good warrior to be his advisor," Benton said. "Someone he can respect and trust." Randor looked at him in astonishment, and Duncan with growing appreciation. "You see, each of us has our skills," Benton said. "The trick is learning which are strongest and then finding people to help supplement our weaknesses. For instance, Race keeps my family secure against most threats, and he provides the boys with the attention I am often unable to give them."

The healer crossed his arms grumpily. "Yes, Randor. What does it matter if Adam isn't the warrior you are? He's different from you, and he'll be a different sort of king, that's all." The king looked startled by this perspective. "I think most of the people are relieved that their first king's sole heir isn't out there endangering himself on the battlefield, especially since he distinguishes himself elsewhere."

Randor blinked at his healer, glanced at Benton, then looked over at his friend. "I hadn't looked at it from quite that viewpoint."

"I know," Duncan said, smiling dryly. "Nevertheless, it is true."

The king shook his head pensively. His eyes sharpened abruptly on Benton's face. "Regardless, at the moment we need to consider how best to return Benton to his sons."

"That would be my preference," Dr. Quest said, smiling. He looked over at Dorgan. "Am I permitted to stand up? I feel somewhat foolish lying here in this bed."

"Of course," Dorgan said. "You seem lucid. Just sit down if you start to feel faint again."

Benton got up. "I do thank you for the rescue," he said. "Even if it was an accident."

"So, Duncan, what do you suggest?"

"I think that I had better consult the Sorceress. She'll probably want to see him, but I'd better go alone first."

Raising an eyebrow, Benton said, "The sorceress? I presume you don't mean that woman back at Snake Mountain. That Evil Lyn?"

"Of course not," Duncan replied. "The Sorceress of Grayskull is greatly skilled and will undoubtedly be able to help, but she is somewhat reclusive."

"I see."

"In the meantime, would you care for a tour of the palace?" Randor suggested.

Sighing, Benton nodded. "I suppose." He realized abruptly how graceless he sounded. "Please don't misunderstand, I find your home very interesting, but -"

The king held up his hand. "I understand, sir. I imagine that I would feel much the same in your place. Why don't we accompany Duncan to the hangar and see him off, then I can show you around?"

Benton agreed and the three of them set off. The healer left in another direction, presumably to return to his duties. The architecture of the building was very interesting, Benton thought, looking around. So many walls were simply missing, making for a very open and inviting atmosphere, though he couldn't help thinking it would prove less than defensible.

Duncan followed his pensive look and said, "There are forcescreens which can be turned on to repel intruders and inclement weather." Benton nodded, enlightened. Perhaps the climate was warm enough that they preferred for there to be wide spaces to catch the breezes.

They reached the courtyard to find that it was occupied only by the girl, whose name he had yet to get, and the young prince with his pet tiger. He was scratching the tiger's head and giving the young woman a very annoyed look. "Teela!" the boy groaned as they approached. "It was an updraft, your father doesn't seem to think it's my fault." This sounded so very familiar that Benton had to suppress a chuckle.

"Well, all I can say is -" She broke off when she saw them. "Your highness, Father, sir," she said nodding.

"This is Benton," Randor said. "Benton, I'd like to present my son, Adam." For a moment, Dr. Quest was uncertain how he should greet the young man, but then the boy put his hand out.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," the boy said, smiling. "This is Cringer," he added, stroking the feline's head. "He's a little shy."

Randor raised an eyebrow and gestured at the young woman. "And this is Duncan's daughter, Teela, the Captain of the Guard."

She too, offered her hand for a hand shake. Benton smiled at her. "Thank you very much, Captain Teela, for your assistance."

"Of course," she said off-handedly. "Are you all right?"

"Thank you, I'm fine."

"Well, I'm off, Randor," Duncan said.

"Are you going to see the Sorceress?" the boy asked, clearly angling for an invitation to come along. Benton was amused. Children, it seemed, were the same everywhere, even in their teens.

A sudden loud cry came from behind them and they all turned as the little jester, whatever he was, soared up yelling, "Your highness, your highness, your highness, your highness!" He was carrying what looked to be a sheet of vellum, folded in thirds and sealed with purple wax.

Randor reached out a hand and took it, his eyes wide. In a low, venomous voice, he said, "Skeletor."

* * *

Evil-Lyn drew all the energy together with a snap, and a young man of about twelve popped into existence in the cell before her. Skeletor peered over her shoulder and said, "I thought you said you could get the man's son! That boy doesn't look a thing like Adam."

Indeed, he didn't. He was a good bit shorter than Adam, and he was dark of complexion. From the color of eyebrows, she presumed he had dark hair. His head was covered with a winding wrap of white fabric, and his eyes, too, were dark.

"Where am I?" he demanded, and Evil-Lyn was pleased to see that she wouldn't have to recast her translation spell.

She stepped up to the bars. "Do you know a man called Doctor Quest?" she asked.

His eyes widened, and he looked her up and down. "What do you want with my father?" he asked angrily.

"Your father?" she repeated.

"So this is the man's son?" Skeletor asked. "I don't understand."

_** And that's news? **_ Evil-Lyn thought irritably.

"Yes, my father," the boy said. "Why have you taken me prisoner?"

"Does your father have any other sons?" she asked. The boy's eyes narrowed and he glared at her. "A blond boy?" His hands balled into fists, and she smiled. He was very easy to read, but he was a child after all.

Turning to her overlord, she said, "I do believe you neglected to specify that Randor has just the one child, Lord Skeletor. This boy has a brother."

The boy launched himself at the bars. "I did not say that. I do not have a brother! I am an only child."

She raised an eyebrow. "Your reactions didn't lie, boy, even if you do." She stepped back and reached out. That explained the peculiar dichotomy she had felt. A few moments later she had the second boy's spirit in her sights. Once more pulling the energy into focus, she caused the second boy to materialize behind the first. This one was blond, with blue eyes, and bore more than a superficial resemblance to Prince Adam. He did, however, appear to be a good deal younger. A small white canine struggled in the boy's arms. Skeletor clapped his hands and began rubbing them together.

"Interesting . . ." he murmured. "And now we have both the man's sons."

"What the -" the blond boy started to say, then he broke off. "Hadji! What's going on?"

"I do not know," the older boy said.

"And who's the Xena reject?" The dog burst free of his boy's grip and ran to the bars, barking madly. The older boy bent and hushed the little animal, then stood up again.

Evil-Lyn smiled at both boys. "Good evening, gentlemen. If you would care to make yourselves comfortable, we have a message that we need to send to your father."

The younger boy leapt at the bars. "You leave my father alone!" he yelled loudly. The little dog started barking again. "Race is gonna come kick your -" His eyes widened and his words broke off. The other boy, Hadji, she gathered, had a similar reaction. She glanced back and saw that Skeletor was approaching closer. The dog yipped and scampered away to the back of the cell.

"Race?" she repeated. "Is that a name?"

Neither boy spoke, both staring at the skull-faced man with wide, terrified expressions. "What are they saying?" Skeletor asked.

"I think you're frightening them, Skeletor. Perhaps you should leave me alone with them while you go to compose your message."

"I had planned to have one of them write it," the Lord of Snake Mountain said. "As I do not believe that the man would understand a note written in our language."

"Randor will, and I'm certain he'll pass the message along."

"Don't you think it would be somewhat more persuasive if we demonstrate that we do, in fact, have his sons?"

Evil-Lyn tapped her staff absently with her forefinger. "You're right," she replied reluctantly.

"I'm well aware of that, Evil-Lyn," he said in a snide tone, and she had to suppress a surge of anger. "Now, hand the blond boy some paper and have him write the note."

Nodding, she picked up a piece of vellum and a pen and held them out through the bars toward the blond child. "You will be writing a note to your father."

He put his hands behind his back. "I don't think so," he replied. "There's no way I'm going to help you get at my father."

"He says no?" Skeletor asked in a mild voice. Evil-Lyn nodded. Skeletor pointed the havoc staff at the older boy and blasted him against the back wall of the cell. He fell to his knees, putting his hand to his head.

The other boy ran to his side, yelling, "Hadji!"

"I think, Jonny, that we have no choice."

The blond boy stood up and walked to the bars. He took the writing materials, and looking bleak, he said,"What do you want me to write?"

Benton watched anxiously as the king carefully broke the seal and opened the page.

"There are two different sets of writing here," he said. "I can't read it all. But the letter is for you, Benton, from Skeletor."

Dr. Quest felt his heart plummet as the king turned the note so that he could read it as well. The familiar scrawl made his stomach twist with nausea. "And from Jonny," he said.

"By the Elders!" Duncan breathed.

Benton read Jonny's hasty scrawl. "Dad, these jerks have me and Hadji. And Bandit! They knocked Hadji into a wall! They say that they'll kill Hadji first and then me if you don't surrender yourself to them. Don't do it, Dad. And I promise, I'll remember the rules. Jonny."

He wanted to sit down, but there was no place to sit. He just stared at the page and the words blurred as he gazed at them. Those vile creatures had Jonny and Hadji. Race would be alone back at the compound, wondering where everybody had gone. He found himself wondering what their disappearances would look like on the security video CDs.

Adam, the prince, put an arm around his shoulders and guided him to sit down on a nearby planter. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly. The tiger nuzzled his hand. Benton just shook his head.

"What does it say, Randor?" Duncan asked.

The king cleared his throat and began to read. "'Randor, please tell your new friend that I now possess his two young sons. They seem quite terrified, if a wee bit stubborn.'" Benton closed his eyes. "'I will not harm them any more than I have already . . .'" Randor paused, gulping, as Benton looked up in shocked horror. What had those monsters done to his boys? Giving Benton a sympathetic look, the king went on. "'. . . if he surrenders himself to me before noon tomorrow. If he does not, the older boy will die, and his body will be delivered to the palace." Benton buried his face in his hands. _** Hadji! **_ "If, after six more hours your friend does not follow my instructions, the younger boy will suffer the same fate."

"Don't worry, we'll get them out of there," Teela said with assurance. He didn't move, unable to fathom what he could possibly do under these circumstances. He was clearly not on Earth anymore, nor did he have any idea how he'd gotten where he was. Race couldn't get here by any means Benton would want him to use. He could hear them speaking around him, but he wasn't really listening.

"Duncan, can you send for He-Man?" Randor asked.

"Adam?"

"I'm already on it," the prince said, running off, his tiger close behind him.

Randor sat down next to him. "Your sons, we will retrieve them. Teela, get a party together. We're going back to Snake Mountain." The girl nodded and ran off.

Duncan turned to his king. "What do you mean, 'we'?" he demanded.

"This man was captured in an attempt to secure me," Randor said, rising again. "I disapprove, and I mean to make that clear to Skeletor."

Benton looked up. "Much as I appreciate the sentiment, oughtn't you to remain behind in safety, your majesty?" he said.

The king shook his head. "I do not stand still for the abduction of nine-year-old boys to force their fathers into compliance."

Evil-Lyn stood irritably in the workshop, watching over the pair of young boys and their pet. The dog had sniffed every inch of the cell, marked a spot in the back, and then sat down very close to the blond boy's feet, in a guard posture. Skeletor had gone to take care of business elsewhere, leaving her in charge of the captives. The boys clung to each other like limpets. When a half an hour had passed since Skeletor had left, the older boy put his brother gently aside and walked to the bars. Evil-Lyn was alone in the workshop, though Trap Jaw stood watch outside. She raised her eyebrow at this sign of boldness.

"What do you want of our father?" he asked.

She tilted her head. "Why does he refer to him as 'my father' and you refer to him as 'our father'?" she asked curiously. The blond boy flushed.

"I am adopted," Hadji said. "My brother had our father to himself until two years ago, it makes a difference, I think."

"I don't mean it, Hadji," the blond boy said. "I just -"

"I know," Hadji said. "But it is perfectly normal. Brothers and sisters who were born to the relationship do it. There is nothing to be worried about, Jonny."

_** Jonny and Hadji, **_ she mused. Very different young men. She wondered what their capabilities were, what their father could do. He was clearly not the warrior type, but he was also clearly a man to be reckoned with.

"You have not answered my question," Hadji said persistently.

"I don't know. That will be up to Skeletor."

The blond boy, Jonny's eyes narrowed. "So you're just a minion?" he asked, giving her a look that seemed to pigeonhole her somehow.

"No, boy, I am second in command, and this is not my project."

"Oh," Hadji said, "so you know your place. That can be a good thing."

She placed rigid controls on her temper. She could see what these boys were trying to accomplish, and they wouldn't manage it. She wasn't going to allow a pair of wretched brats to get past her self-control. "What does your father do?" she asked.

"Beats the bad guys," Jonny said defiantly. There were still signs of fear around his eyes, but his spirit was clearly unbent. She could see his father in him, in his stance and his grim determination, but she suspected that if he resembled one of his parents in appearance, it was his mother.

Thinking back on the list, and the possibility that Skeletor would demand sufficient information to use it in the future, she tilted her head. "Tell me, Jonny. What's your mother like?"

She could see immediately that she had asked the wrong question. The expression that crumpled the boy's face was not rebellion but shocked fear. The other boy stepped between them and glared at her furiously. "How dare you threaten our father like that!"

The little dog jumped up and started barking at her. Jonny went down on his knees next to his dog and started calming him. "Quiet, Bandit," he murmured.

"I beg your pardon. I haven't threatened anybody. I just wanted to know what his mother is like."

"She's dead!" Jonny burst out. "As if you didn't know that!" The dog, Bandit, barked once, as if to punctuate this point, then licked his master's face.

Evil-Lyn's eyes flew wide. _** That could be viewed as a threat. Hell! **_ "I didn't know it, Jonny," she said softly, gazing down into his eyes. "How could I?" She gave them both a serious look. "Don't you know that you're not in Kansas anymore?"

Jonny's eyes widened and h stared at her. Hadji let out a strange, strangled noise that sounded almost like a laugh. "Kansas?" he exclaimed. "We're not in . . ."

"Dad must have said it," Jonny said, his voice suffused with some bizarre mixture of emotions.

Evil-Lyn rose to her full height, looking down her nose at them. "What in the world do you think is funny?"

"If you do not know that, lady," Hadji said, "then we most certainly are not in Kansas anymore."

 


	3. Chapter 3

The older boy, Hadji, tilted his head. "Where are we, if I may be so bold as to ask you a question?"

"You are on the Dark Hemisphere of the planet Eternia. The place is Snake Mountain."

"And how is my father -" Jonny broke off with an apologetic look at his brother. "Our father supposed to get here? We don't have interstellar travel, or whatever it takes."

She tilted her head. "He's already here. He stood in this very cell not four hours ago, and refused to answer my questions."

Both boys stared at her in astonishment. "He was here?" Jonny asked in a very small voice.

She nodded.

"Then where is he now?" Hadji asked.

She snorted. "Our enemies broke in and took him away with them." At their looks of alarm, she gave them a grave look, a hint of an idea occurring to her. "A wretched villain, that Randor," she said, conjuring her chair and sitting down. "I have no guess what terrible purpose they plan to put your father's talents to, but if you think Skeletor and I are bad, you have no comprehension of how truly dreadful Randor and his minions are." The boys were staring at her in horror. "After all, they call themselves 'the Masters of the Universe.' What good can come of that?"

The boys exchanged nervous, unhappy looks. "But," Jonny started, then faltered to a stop. Shaking his head, he gave her a perplexed grimace. "But if they're so bad, why would you have to threaten us to get him to come back? He's not going to work for them willingly." Hadji nodded beside him.

** Logic. Why did that man have to teach his children logic? ** She conjured a wide seat behind them, well cushioned and broad enough for them to sit together. "Please, sit down while I try to explain," she said confidingly. Seeming dubious, they settled down into the seat. The dog jumped up and sat on Jonny's lap. "First of all, Randor has the ability to seem very gentle and well intentioned. He has the face and manner of an angel, but the heart of a fiend." She shook her head sorrowfully. "You saw Lord Skeletor." The both nodded, and she could see she had caught their attention very firmly. "He used to be an extraordinarily handsome man, but during the war, twenty years ago, Randor, then Captain Randor, destroyed his face with acid."

"Acid?" Hadji exclaimed. "But - that is not a mask? Are you saying that is his bare skull?"

She nodded. The tale she was weaving was catching hold in their minds. If she could just keep this mix of truth and fiction going . . . "It is only magic that keeps Skeletor alive, magic and pure will. He is in constant pain and torment, and it is no wonder that he hates Randor with every passion in his heart." It would be profitless to mention that he had hated Randor before the attack, and that he had brought his fate on himself. The boys were on the edges of their seats, listening. "Have I told you yet that Randor is now king of Eternia?" They shook their heads in unison. "He was always vicious and greedy for power, in that he and Skeletor were rivals."

"So, Skeletor is no better than Randor?" Hadji asked, knitting his brows together.

She sighed, putting on an air of regretful resignation. "When you live in a world like ours, you must learn to accept that certain things are inevitable. Skeletor and Randor are the two strongest leaders in the land. It comes down to a choice between the two evils." They both looked deeply distressed, and she knew her plan was working. "No, Skeletor's goals are not what your father might prefer, but they are better than Randor's. Skeletor merely seeks to rule, yes, with absolute power, but as humanely as possible, while the king of Eternia seeks nothing less than total domination of thought and will."

"My father wouldn't help anyone like that!" Jonny burst out. "What are they going to do to him?"

"Well, you see, my boy, that is the difficulty. Randor has no qualms whatsoever in putting his sorceress to work on such things. Your father will no doubt believe that he is acting for the good of others while he creates the monstrous weapons Randor will ask of him. The devices of terrible torture and mass destruction."

"Brain washing?" Hadji asked.

** Brain washing? It must be an idiomatic term . . . ** "Of a sort," she temporized. "The Sorceress will bend his will to hers, and force him to act as Randor would have him. He will have no comprehension of the evil he is doing, but I gather from what little I have learned of him that your father could be an incredible force for evil, were his gifts ever harnessed."

Hadji shook his head. "It still does not make sense. You are threatening us to fetch my father back. Why would you do that? If he has been mentally affected by this magic, will he not simply ignore the message? And who is to say he ever got it?"

She gave the boy an understanding look, all the while wanting to strangle him. However, it was clear that both these children were quite bright, and singularly spirited. Perhaps if they could retrieve the father, the whole trio could be of benefit to her long term plans. If Quest's abilities were such that he was in constant danger of attack in his homeland, perhaps she could use him to defeat Skeletor at last and take power over all. "At this point, they won't be sure that's necessary, and the message was sent very carefully. I can assure you that he got it." ** After all, we saw it on the doomseeker's visual casting, ** she thought wryly. This mix of truth and lies was working very well indeed. "If he can sneak away, I would imagine he will."

"And if he can't, you'll kill Hadji," Jonny said flatly.

She nodded. "Skeletor has made the threat, he must keep it. But your father will be given multiple opportunities to surrender himself. Just keep in mind, my boy, that Skeletor is the lesser of the two evils. You don't even want to think about what Randor would do to you or your brother should he get hold of you."

They were well and truly hooked on this fiction. If she worked hard enough, she might be able to persuade them that she was the only one in this world who was on the side of truth and light. If she continued to shelter them from outside influences, she might even be able to develop them into warriors that were devoted exclusively to her.

Smiling inside, she continued to weave them a tale that mingled truth and falsehood, painting Randor as a vile monster, Skeletor just a step below him, and dropping hints about how terrible it all was. Talking about her own desire to make things right could come later. She didn't want to tax their credulity too much.

Queen Marlena at his side, Benton stared up at the war party that was preparing to leave. He was frustrated. Race would have let him go, but then when the boys were in trouble, it was usually just Race and Benton around to rescue them, so there were limited options. Now there was an entire collection of warriors, all practically foaming at the mouth at the mere thought of two children being in this 'Skeletor's' possession.

He wished Race were there. The boys would trust him if he were to find them. On the other hand, Benton didn't want his friend in this situation any more than he wanted himself or his sons in it.

"They are very skilled," the queen said in a low, musical voice.

"What are they waiting for?"

"That," she said, pointing at a curious sight, a broad smile spreading across her face. Benton glanced in the direction she indicated. To his amazement, a man wearing little more than a belt with a fur loincloth and a metal breastplate on a leather harness rode up on the back of a large green and yellow tiger. It appeared to be of the same species as the prince's pet, but considerably larger.

"Prince Adam told me that there was a problem with Skeletor," he said in a deep, resonant voice. Benton gaped. ** 'Is it a bird? Is it plane? No, it's Superman!' DC Comics should get a load of this. Enter the super hero. &&

"Yes, I'm glad you came in time, He-Man," Randor said. Benton froze. ** He-Man? Good grief. ** The cat and its rider were loaded aboard a vehicle.

Just as they were preparing to leave, Benton had an alarming thought. "Randor!" he called. The king turned. "My boys, will they understand you? I don't know how this translation spell works!"

"I don't know." Randor scanned the courtyard. "Orko!" The flying jester was at his side in a moment. "How does the translation spell work?"

"Well, whatever is spoken to the subject is translated into his native language, and whatever the subject says is translated into his hearer's native language."

Benton blinked. "So I'm the subject, correct?"

"Of course. Otherwise you'd only be able to communicate with one of us."

"So the boys won't understand a thing anyone says." He shook his head worriedly. "They're bound to be scared as it is. They won't know friend from foe, and the only one they'll understand is that Evil Lyn."

The king nodded sharply. "Orko, can you place the spell on someone else?" Randor asked. "So that we'll have someone who can talk with the children?"

"On me," He-Man suggested.

"Yes, he's the one most likely to be able to break down all the barriers Skeletor might put up," Randor said.

The Trollan wizard cast his spell again, and Benton, once again, noticed a strange tendency on the part of all present to cringe away from the magician as he casted, and he wondered why.

"How do we test it to see if it's working?" Randor asked.

The jester said, "Well, I could speak in my native language. If He-Man understands me, then it's working." He turned to the large man. "So, He-Man, do I make sense?"

Benton didn't notice a significant difference, but the others all looked to the hero. "I understand you, Orko," he said, smiling.

"Maybe I should come along," Orko suggested, floating towards Randor and Duncan. "That way I could cast the spell on the children when we find them. He-Man may have to fight and won't be able to spend all his time translating for them."

The king exchanged a look with Duncan, who seemed somewhat dubious. Shaking his head, Randor said, "Very well, but stay out of trouble, Orko. We don't need to have to rescue you, too."

With that, the party took off.

"They will retrieve your sons, Benton," the queen said, putting a hand on his arm.

"And what am I to do in the meantime?" he muttered.

She smiled sadly at him. "In the meantime, you wait."

"So," the boy Hadji said, "this spell allows you to understand anything we say?"

"Yes," Evil-Lyn said, but she had noticed that Jonny was looking at his brother with an odd expression on his face, and Hadji's tone was odd, different from how he usually sounded. What were they up to? Thus far they had seemed to believe her, but she knew they were intelligent, and they had proven themselves to be perceptive. Were they good actors, as well?

The dog glared up at her.

Jonny pursed his lips as he looked up at her. "If you people are the good guys, or at least the better guys, why don't you let us out of this cell?" he suggested. "We're just kids."

"If it were up to me, I -"

"If it were up to you, what?" The boys' eyes widened at the sound of Skeletor's voice, and she turned to see her overlord, who seemed very dubious. "What are you saying, my dear Evil-Lyn?"

"I would free them from this cell and place them in a more comfortable environment." Skeletor tilted his head, and she attempted to communicate her plan to him by her facial expression.

"I see," he said, eyeing her with approval. "You do have a point." He put out his staff and the bars rose to a height above the boys' heads. The pair watched this new development with suspicious surprise. The little dog barked and struggled to free himself from Jonny's arms. "Where would you like to put them?" Skeletor asked. "There are some comfortable, yet inescapable rooms on the third level."

"That sounds excellent, Lord Skeletor." She turned back to the boys who had not moved from the seat. Both of them were staring at Skeletor's face, or lack thereof, and seemed utterly fascinated.

"Magic is keeping him alive?" Hadji murmured.

"Why would you want to stay alive without skin?" Jonny asked.

"Jonny, Hadji, why don't you come here and I'll introduce you to Lord Skeletor."

The younger boy's eyes widened, and he shook his head fervently. The elder boy looked at her in astonishment. "You want us to get closer to him? I would guess that he has an uncertain temper, and I would not wish to encroach on his personal space."

A sudden loud crash sounded in the halls, causing all of them to jump. Both boys scrambled to their feet and ventured out into the room. She suspected that they intended to take advantage of the confusion they sensed in order to escape.

As the door slammed open, revealing He-Man in a towering fury, she felt Skeletor move swiftly across behind her. She turned to see what he was doing.

He grabbed Jonny by the upper arm and forced him to stand in front of him. The little boy froze in shocked terror as Skeletor lowered his staff and pointed it at his head. "Good afternoon, He-Man, and welcome to Snake Mountain." The champion stared at his nemesis, clearly infuriated, yet stymied. "Now, put down your sword and let's have a little chat."

Other masters had begun to arrive, but all stood paralyzed at the sight of a child being threatened by the Lord of Snake Mountain. Evil-Lyn wondered if this would prove successful. Had Skeletor finally found a way to capture He-Man? Mekanek's head raised above the crowd, and she could see his hand clenching down on his club. Sy-Klone's normally expressionless face was dark with anger, and Stratos looked ready to spit nails. None of them moved, all clearly waiting to see how this crisis developed.

He-Man was just starting to throw his weapon aside when Hadji launched himself onto Skeletor's back, wrapping his arms around his neck. The little dog, who was still in Jonny's arms, bit down hard on Skeletor's hand at almost the same moment.

The staff discharged, a blast of energy hit Jonny in the side of the head, but Skeletor released the younger boy in favor of attempting to free himself from the older child and from the dog. Jonny fell limply to the floor. Evil-Lyn was stunned. She was certain Skeletor had never had any intention of actually hitting the child, counting instead on the simple threat to succeed.

He-Man, caught in the act of throwing his sword down, tightened his grip on the hilt instead. "You've gone too far this time, Skeletor!" he bellowed in outrage.

For his part, Skeletor flung his hand out and the canine went flying. The mutt landed on his feet, but spun around crazily from the momentum of the throw. Hadji was proving more difficult for him to shake off. Teela, the little snipe, darted forward and seized the younger boy off the floor while Skeletor was distracted. Under ordinary circumstances, Evil-Lyn would have blasted her, but she didn't want to risk hitting the child as well, so Man-at-Arms' daughter managed to carry him off and out of sight.

Instead, Evil-Lyn sent a bolt of power toward the masters, causing them all to duck. ** Where are the others? ** she thought furiously, then she realized that she could hear sounds of battle. Skeletor reached over his back and seized Hadji by shirt, yanking him over his head. Using the impetus of this movement, he sent the boy flying into Sy-Klone and Stratos.

Evil-Lyn shot off a bolt of energy at He-Man as the champion started after Skeletor, but as soon as he realized that both boys were in the masters' possession, he called a retreat. Evil-Lyn and Skeletor followed but they were not able to retrieve their hostages, despite injuring both Stratos and Mekanek with their attacks.

As they watched the masters fly away, Skeletor turned to her, eyes flaring crimson. "We are going to have a long chat later." So saying, he turned and stalked off into the fortress. Evil-Lyn sighed in irritated resignation. She knew she could expect some form of vile punishment, even if she wasn't the author of the failed plan. But she watched the rescue parties depart into the distance, contemplating the seeds she'd sown. It wouldn't take long for them to realize that she had lied to them about Randor, but some part of what she'd said would stay with them.

Perhaps she could find some way to use that to her advantage in the future.

Queen Marlena had led Benton to a small room with large windows that looked out in the direction the rescue force had departed in. Then she sat patiently while he paced in frantic worry. What had those villains already done to his boys? What more might happen in the course of the rescue? Would Jonny and Hadji be hurt? Would they be frightened past their ability to cope?

He had a feeling that he was driving even the calm and patient queen of Eternia to distraction by his pacing. Race would be thoroughly irritated if he could see him. Of course, if Race were in this world, on this planet - whatever the right terminology was - he would be off with the rescue teams rather than back here at the palace.

When the sound of the vehicles returning hit his ears, Benton started toward the door. Queen Marlena was close behind him as they left the room, leading him to suspect that at least some part of her serenity was a carefully cultivated pose.

By the time they reached the courtyard, the vehicles - Randor had called them 'wind raiders' - had landed. Benton saw Hadji's turbaned head, but no sign of Jonny. His elder son stood up in the vehicle and spotted him. Scrambling over the side he ran to Benton and said, gasping, "They hurt Jonny! He's unconscious." Tugging on his hand, Hadji dragged him over to the wind raider where He-Man was gently handing Jonny out to Duncan. Teela stood next to them, jittering slightly as she watched the transfer.

"What happened?" Benton exclaimed.

"It's my fault, sir," He-Man said. "I'm -"

"Forgive me, young man, but I don't care whose fault it was at the moment. What happened to my son?"

Teela gave him a reassuring look as she slipped over the side of the vehicle. "We'll get him to Dorgan. He'll be fine."

"Skeletor, the man with the bone face," Hadji said, "he threatened Jonny if the 'masters' would not thrown down their weapons."

"And they didn't?" Benton asked.

"They were going to!" Hadji exclaimed irately. "As if that would have helped! I leapt onto Skeletor's back and Bandit bit him on the hand. I did not see what happened, but I heard some kind of energy blast and Jonny was knocked unconscious."

They started walking toward the palace, and Benton assumed, toward the infirmary. He glanced at Duncan who shook his head. "I wasn't there."

Hadji reached up and took his father's hand. "What did that man say?" he asked.

Benton repeated it, and realized that Hadji still couldn't understand everyone who was present. He was glancing around for Orko when he saw He-Man climbing out of the windraider holding Bandit very gently in both hands. The little dog was licking his face. Benton was glad to see that the dog was unhurt, but could spare no attention for him.

A man in red armor and some sort of green goggles that appeared to be part of his helmet walked up beside him. "If it's any consolation to you, sir, I don't actually think that the blast was retaliation for the older boy's attack, I think it may have been an accident."

Benton grimaced. "It may very well be a consolation for Hadji, but hurt is hurt." The little dog came running up and followed them closely.

"I understand that," the man said in a tone of voice that told Benton more clearly than words that this man was a father.

They arrived at the infirmary where Dorgan had clearly been waiting. Jonny was rushed immediately to an examination table. Hadji hovered anxiously while Benton leaned down and started checking Jonny's pupils.

Dorgan gave him an irritable glare and started to push him aside. "If you please, sir, I am the healer."

"And I am a physician!" Benton snapped. "Now, his pupils are dilating properly." The healer raised an eyebrow, and, once convinced that Benton actually knew something about medicine, allowed him to assist. They questioned the witnesses and Benton was deeply alarmed to hear that the power that had knocked his son unconscious appeared to have been electrical in nature. There were so many possible complications to electrical damage, especially when applied directly to the head.

When they were done, and Benton had assured himself that Jonny was resting comfortably, he turned away. Hadji was across the room attended by the man in the red armor, He-Man, Orko and the large cat. He held Bandit close in his arms. Randor was not more then five feet away, his wife at his side.

"I am so terribly sorry!" Randor said in hushed tones. "Is he going to be all right?" The queen was gazing intently at Jonny's face, and Benton was reminded that his son resembled hers.

"Yes," Dorgan said confidently. "He may be unconscious for awhile yet, but he will be fine." Both monarchs looked relieved.

Benton nodded and said, "I'd better go tell his brother." He nodded to the royal couple and made his way past them over to his older son's side

"Is Jonny okay?" Hadji asked instantly, scratching Bandit's neck.

"He's going to be unconscious for awhile longer, but yes, he will be all right." Hadji looked over the Jonny's bed. Benton wasn't leaving his younger son's side, but, though he and Dorgan were certain that Jonny would be all right, he didn't want Hadji there if they were proven wrong. Electrical injuries could be tricky to predict, and Hadji didn't need to see his brother going into convulsions or something of that nature. He put a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm going to sit with him, but I want you to go with -" He paused uncertainly and the queen came to his rescue.

"I sure you need some food and an opportunity to get cleaned up," she said, and Benton noticed that Hadji appeared to be able to understand her. He looked over at his father who nodded reassuringly.

Hadji himself didn't seem entirely reassured. "Can I talk to you alone?" he asked. Benton nodded and looked up at the Eternians around him.

"I'd best be going in any case," He-Man said, withdrawing from the room. The man in the red armor, the king and the queen also left the room, as did Dorgan. Hadji stood up and walked over to the bedside with Benton. He sat down and waited for Hadji to speak.

"That woman, at Snake Mountain, said that these people, the 'Masters of the Universe,' were as evil as their lot if not more so. She specifically said that King Randor was a very bad man who was good at seeming nice."

Benton grimaced. "She tried telling me that, too Hadji, but the way she phrased it made it clear that she was lying. Perhaps she got better ideas for her lies by the time they abducted you and Jonny."

"Really?" Hadji said, looking over at Jonny's sleeping face. "Because I do not want to believe that these people are lying to us." Bandit jumped up onto the bed and walked up to Jonny's face to lick it. "They do not feel as though they are lying for one thing."

"And did she?"

Hadji gave him a puzzled, uncertain look. "She felt blank, as if she were shielding. I have met very few people with that sort of an ability. I could not tell, and since she was the only one who spoke to us, I do not know."

Benton smiled at his son. "Hadji, do you trust me?"

"I do, but she said they could put a spell on you that would make you think everything was all right when it was not."

He felt a surge of anger at the woman, for manipulating his sons' minds that way, but he kept it concealed. "I think you can trust your own feelings on this Hadji." After a moment, the boy nodded and then gave him a tight hug.

"Jonny will be all right?" he asked.

Benton nodded. "Will you go with the queen now?"

Hadji agreed and they went to the door. Queen Marlena smiled at them and took Hadji away with her. Dorgan and Randor came inside the room again. Benton gave the king an irritated glare. "Evidently Evil-Lyn decided to try and persuade the boys that you and your people are worse than Skeletor, but hiding it better."

"That sounds like her," Randor said. He looked at the door thoughtfully. "Your Hadji hasn't seemed frightened of us, though."

** And he'd better stay that way, ** Benton thought with unaccustomed ferocity. Schooling his features, he said, "Hadji has a sense for people. You feel more trustworthy than Evil-Lyn."

"What is that animal doing on the bed?" Dorgan demanded.

Benton turned to see that the little dog had curled up by Jonny's head, resting his muzzle on his master's shoulder. "Bandit is devoted to Jonny. My son will be more comfortable if his dog is nearby when he wakes up than if you shoo him away." He blinked, a stab of guilt going through him. "Wait, there was a battle, and Hadji was involved. Has anyone checked him for injuries?"

"One of my medics took care of that. Apart from a few bruises, he is unhurt."

Benton heaved a sigh of relief and walked back over to Jonny, reaching down and scratching Bandit's head. The little bulldog opened one eye and his tail wagged twice, then he went back to sleep.

"The animal has also been checked out. He was completely unhurt."

"But he's exhausted." Benton sank down into the chair by the bed, staring into Jonny's face. They had done everything they could, he knew that, but he couldn't bear the waiting. He took his son's hand. He was dimly aware that the other men were still in the room, but he paid little attention to them.

So the older boy was psionic . . . Evil-Lyn tapped her cheek as she gazed into her scrying bowl. It made persuasion of certain sorts more tricky, and she had not picked up on it, which meant that he was not unskilled. How intriguing . . .

When Doctor Quest fell silent, focused on the boy, she sent her attention elsewhere. Marlena was coddling the older child, who seemed to appreciate the attention. Evil-Lyn wanted to know precisely how Orko had managed to make all of the Eternians able to communicate with their guests, but since their magic did not work in remotely the same fashion, capturing him to interrogate him would do no good. She'd simply have to do some research, a task she abhorred.

The boy was telling Marlena about some of their exploits, and Evil-Lyn sat back to listen.

"Most often, people capture us to make Dr. Quest do things for them," he said.

"Dr. Quest?" Marlena said curiously. "You don't call him father?"

Hadji looked uncomfortable. "Sometimes I do. It is not because I do not think of him that way. I just -" The boy broke off, looking unhappy.

** Good going, Queen Marlena, put the boy on the defensive. ** She glared at the images.

"I'm sorry, your people are strange to me," the queen said. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.

The boy seemed to seize on this with alacrity. "I am not of the same culture as Jonny and our father, either," he said. "I grew up on the streets of Calcutta. Things were very different for me than they were for Jonny."

"How did you come to join their family?" the queen asked curiously.

The boy looked mildly embarrassed. "A man threw a knife at Dr. Quest. I was nearby, charming snakes, so I used the lid from my snake basket to shield him from the blow."

"That was very brave," Marlena said. Evil-Lyn raised an eyebrow.

"It was instinctive," Hadji said dismissively. "I did not think to do it, I merely did it." He smiled suddenly, and the expression was unexpected and brightened his glum face considerably. "Jonny was angry with me. He saw me with the knife and he attacked me. I threw him."

"He didn't realized that you'd saved Benton's life?" Marlena asked.

Hadji shook his head. "He did not. But that is the only time we have ever fought." His eyes clouded over. "He is a very good brother."

"He'll be fine, Hadji."

They were silent for a moment, then Hadji said, "One time, the villains held us hostage to make Jonny do something. That was awful, but it was unusual."

"What did they want Jonny to do?"

Hadji shrugged. "They were ordinary criminals. Jonny had found a Spanish doubloon." Seeing Marlena's puzzled look, he quickly explained. "A large gold coin, about three hundred years old. He found it at the bottom of the ocean when we were diving."

"You dive at the bottom of the ocean?" the queen asked.

"It is very shallow where we were," Hadji said. "Father and Race will not let us dive into the deeper portions until we are older. He says he wants us to be at least in our teens before we start doing that. I think he wants us to have more practice first."

"I see."

"Anyway, Jonny had found this doubloon, and he brought it back with him. The cook we had hired for that trip turned out to be a spy, and this gang of criminals boarded our ship and took us all hostage, making Jonny dive to go find the rest of the treasure. He threatened to kill Dr. Quest." Evil-Lyn watched as Hadji shuddered. Marlena's arm around the boy's shoulders tightened. "It was very frightening, because they were not people with a bigger agenda. When some people capture my father, or the rest of us, we know that he will not be killed, because they want him to do things for them, but these were just crooks. I think Race thought that when they had the gold, they would just kill us all and leave."

"How did you escape?"

"One of the gang threw Bandit, our dog, overboard. He swam to the authorities and brought them back for us."

"And the villains were captured?"

Hadji shook his head. "No, ma'am. They were killed. When they tried to escape, the police vessel's guns hit their fuel tank and the ship was blown up. I think one man survived for awhile, but he died in hospital." His eyes grew angry. "We were very upset, because Jose seemed very nice, but he threatened Jonny with a knife."

Marlena's eyes widened at this casual recitation of events. Evil-Lyn was impressed to see that the boy could speak so calmly of the deaths of others. Perhaps there was some hope for him as an ally. None of Randor's people could stomach death.

"Was Jonny hurt?"

Hadji shook his head. "No, he did what they asked him to do, but they were going to make him keep diving until he found everything or they had to go away."

All three of these people had real potential. Two small boys, so unafraid in the face of danger. Hadji had attacked Skeletor, bare-handed and ferocious. Evil-Lyn found herself actively wanting to capture them for herself, and put them to good use.

"What is this Race like?" Marlena asked, and Evil-Lyn focused once more on the conversation. This could be a very interesting topic.

"He is brave and very strong," Hadji said. "He is a government agent, and he was assigned to be Jonny's bodyguard before I joined the family."

"Jonny's bodyguard?" Marlena asked, echoing Evil-Lyn's own question. "Why so specifically his and not Benton's?" she asked.

Hadji tilted his head. "Jonny was the one being threatened. Back then, people were trying to control Dr. Quest, not to kill or capture him." He gave her a serious look. "Did he tell you that his wife was dead?" The queen nodded. "She was murdered by people who were trying to kill her and Jonny as well. So the government gave him a bodyguard for Jonny so he could work without worrying as much."

"I see."

"But he is more than a bodyguard," Hadji said. "I have read the handbook for I-1 bodyguards. They are not supposed to get attached, and Race is very attached. He acts like an extra father. Or maybe even like a mother. Since neither Jonny nor I has one, that is kind of nice. But he has a daughter, too. She visits sometimes. She can be really annoying, but she is a girl."

"Are all girls annoying?" the queen asked.

Hadji raised his eyebrows. "I am eleven, she is ten, and she is very competitive with Jonny."

"Ahh."

He looked pensive. "I think she misses her father, too. He lives with us, and she lives with her mother, so we see more of him than she does."

"Why doesn't his family live with you?" Marlena asked. Evil-Lyn was beginning to wonder if the queen could hear her thoughts, since the questions she was asking came so close to the ones Evil-Lyn wanted to ask.

"Several reasons," Hadji said. "For one thing, I-1 agents are not supposed to have their families along on bodyguarding tasks." His eyes went distant. "The handbook says, 'It splits the agent's focus and introduces a conflict of interest into the situation.' This is another reason why Race is unusual. He has stayed a lot longer than he's supposed to. I do not know why. But also, he is divorced from Jessie's mother, and she works in another country. She is an archeologist."

"A what?"

"She studies ancient civilizations, digging them up and finding long lost artifacts."

"How interesting."

"Race says they get along better now than when they were married. He says they are friends now."

"Oh," Marlena said in tones of enlightenment. "Marriage does work better when you can be friends with your partner." Hadji nodded, as if an 11-year-old boy knew anything about marriage. "That's why my son will never have an arranged marriage if I can help it. He'll need an equal partner, not someone he has to tiptoe around."

** Now that's interesting information, ** Evil-Lyn mused. Hadji merely looked politely interested. The door to the room opened, and Prince Adam walked in, accompanied by his cowardly cat, Cringer.

"Adam," the queen said, smiling. "Allow me to present Hadji, Benton's older son."

"Hello," the prince said. Hadji was staring at the tiger, eyes wide.

"Is he the same breed as Battle Cat?" Hadji asked.

Adam's eyebrows raised, and he said, "Yes, but Battle Cat is unusually large." The prince squatted. "Cringer, here, is more typical."

Marlena was smiling. "Hadji, this is my son, Adam."

As they exchanged greetings, Evil-Lyn let her attention wander. The door to her workroom opened and she immediately dismissed the image in her scrying bowl. Skeletor stalked up to her, his eye sockets flaring a brilliant crimson. "It's time for our conversation, my dear Evil-Lyn."


	4. Chapter 4

Benton watched Jonny come to with deep concern. What if he didn't understand what was going on around him? What if he was too frightened to listen to reason?

"Dad?" Jonny said, squinting up at him. "My head hurts, and I had a really rotten dream."

Bandit sat up and started licking his boy. "I'm afraid it may not have been a dream," Benton said regretfully.

Jonny sat up sharply and looked around the room with panic in his eyes. "You mean Zin came here, too? And he's trying to -to -"

"No, Jonny, Zin's not here." Benton stroked his son's hair.

"Who's that?" Jonny asked, pointing behind him. Benton turned and saw Randor.

"Jonny, Hadji told me what the witch woman said to the two of you." Jonny nodded, eyes vague but definitely worried. "Let me assure you that she was lying. Hadji says he trusts these people, and I can tell you that I do."

"Who is that, though?" Jonny asked. "And where's Hadji?"

The door opened and shut, causing both Benton and Jonny to look up. Orko was floating over from the entrance and Benton didn't see Dorgan in the room anywhere. He hoped that the healer was going to fetch Hadji to reassure his brother.

"Can I do the spell now?" the little jester asked, remaining well back from the bed. Benton looked at his son, who was staring at the creature in rapt fascination.

"Dad, do you see that?"

"Yes, Jonny. His name is Orko, and -"

"His?" Jonny squeaked. "It's alive?"

"He is a Trollan, and he startled me as well when I saw him." Jonny raised his eyebrows at his father. "We're not on Earth, Jonny. I'm not sure exactly where we are, but -"

"We're not in Kansas," Jonny said. "I know, that woman told us."

Benton bit his lip, then both of them burst into laughter. It was mildly hysterically, slightly nervous laughter, and Benton hugged his son to him. "This is a strange situation, isn't it, son?"

Jonny nodded, then pulled away. "Okay, what does the Orko thing want, and who is that?"

"Orko wants to cast a spell on you that will allow you to understand what anyone here says to you, and that will allow them to understand you. I already have it, and so does -"

"Jonny!" Hadji came in and ran up to the bed. Marlena entered behind him and walked to her husband's side.

"Hadji, are you all right? Was that weird lady lying?"

"I think so, Jonny. Father seems perfectly normal, and that woman," he gestured toward the queen, "and I have been talking. She is married to King Randor and she seems like a very nice lady. I think that the witch wanted us to run away if rescue came, and that is all."

Jonny looked thoughtful. "Dad says you trust them."

"I do. They do not feel like liars, or like villains." Benton's eyes widened at this frank answer. Randor couldn't understand Jonny's words, but he could understand Hadji's. He cast a worried look at the king to see if he was angered or annoyed by the clear direction of this conversation. Randor just put an arm around his wife's shoulders and hugged her tightly. Benton looked away. It was difficult to watch that closeness without pain. He missed Rachel with every fiber of his being. More than three years she'd been gone, and the grief was still fresh.

"What about that?" Jonny asked, gesturing at Orko with his chin.

"He feels odd, but not bad," Hadji said after looking at him for a moment. "He cast a spell on me that allowed me to understand everyone. I think that is another sign of how bad the other woman was. She made it so we could only understand her."

"Okay," Jonny said. "Tell him to make the spell or whatever."

Benton watched Orko cast the spell on his son, and smiled when Jonny didn't seem overly alarmed by the experience. Benton caught his attention and said, "These are King Randor and Queen Marlena of Eternia, Jonny, and this is Orko."

Jonny slid off the other side of the bed and walked around to the king and queen. Benton put out a hand to stop him, but it was too late. He had to settle for watching to make sure he was okay. "It's nice to meet you," he said politely, holding out his hand in a way that would make any father proud. Bandit jumped up and ran down the length of the bed to stand panting happily up at the monarchs next to Jonny's arm.

"It's a very great pleasure to meet you," the king said, taking Jonny's hand gravely and shaking it. "Your father has told us a great deal about both of you."

Both boys got that slightly stuffed expression that children get when adults make fatuous comments like that.

Benton walked around next to his sons and squatted down by Jonny. "I think you need to sit down, my boy. You've been unconscious for a while. Let's not overdo."

As he spoke, the door opened and Dorgan entered followed by Prince Adam with his pet tiger. Jonny's eyes widened as he saw the animal and he exclaimed, "Cool!"

Before Benton could stop him, he'd run across to the creature, who backed up a step, but then suffered himself to be enthusiastically petted. Hadji ran after his brother to babble happily about the creature. Adam, like the nice young man he seemed to be, started talking to both boys, squatting down and reassuring his pet.

Benton glanced over at Randor, and they both looked over at where Dorgan was giving Jonny an examination. "I'm glad to see that your son has recovered," the king said, his wife nodding her agreement. "He-Man was most distressed that he failed to prevent the injury. I was not there. We had split into groups to cover more of the fortress."

Nodding, Benton said, "I'm just glad that Hadji managed to distract that villain. It sounds as though it was a bad few moments."

"Your son was telling me a little bit about your experiences," Queen Marlena said. "I think you should be very proud of both your sons. And I'm terribly sorry to hear about the death of your wife."

Benton grimaced. "What did Hadji tell you?"

"That she was murdered, nothing more, really."

"Murdered!" Randor repeated in a low, intense voice. "You didn't mention that."

"I don't like talking about it," Benton said. "The man who killed here was also trying to kill Jonny." He shook his head. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost them both at once." He closed his eyes, struggling not to let the sense of despair that thought engendered show. "I would never have met Race or Hadji without Jonny there to hold me together. Race would never have been assigned, and I would not likely have gone to Calcutta." He shivered. "I really don't like even thinking about that time in my life."

"I'm sorry," Marlena said. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." Benton shook his head and waved a dismissing hand. They were silent for a few moments.

Finally, after a pause that lengthened uncomfortably, Jonny came up and said, "Dad, do you mind if we go outside with Prince Adam?"

Benton glanced over at Randor, who nodded, as if to say that would be safe enough for the boys. "All right Jonny, behave yourself. And don't let Bandit get into too much trouble. And don't overdo."

"Right, Dad!" Jonny said, then, in clear violation of his instructions, ran out of the room.

"Adam will keep him from hurting himself, Benton," The queen said.

"Where did Duncan go?" Benton asked suddenly.

"He's gone to see the Sorceress," Randor said. "Now that we have all three of you, we'd like to get you home as soon as possible. I think he's also going to ask if there is some way to make it harder for Skeletor or Evil-Lyn to capture you again."

"I would very much appreciate that," he said. "I'd like to get home. Race has got to be frantic, and Lord knows how many people he's called in. I may get back to find my home occupied by half the U.S. military."

"U.S.?" Randor repeated.

"It's the country I live in. The United States of America." Benton shook his head. "I've got to wonder how this is going to look in Race's next report to his superiors back at I-1."

Benton could see that Randor was puzzled, but the king didn't ask and he didn't feel like explaining. They walked out of the infirmary into the attached garden and saw Jonny and Hadji rolling around on the grass with the tiger. Bandit stood nearby, at Adam's feet, growling and barking, but Benton could see that he wasn't actually alarmed because he was neither attacking nor restrained. Jonny did seem none the worse for wear, and they had verified that he had no sign of either concussion or skull damage.

"It's hard not to worry about them, isn't it?" Marlena said.

"Try impossible, dear, and you've hit nearer the mark," Randor said wryly, squeezing her shoulders. She smiled up at him.

Benton found himself praying that neither of these two lost the other untimely. They were so clearly, deeply, breath-takingly in love that it would do to them what it had done to him.

"True enough," he agreed. "True enough."

The three of them sat down near where the boys were rough-housing with the tiger. After a relatively short time, Jonny pulled away and put his hand to his temple. Shaking his head and looking annoyed, he started to rejoin the play. Benton leaned forward to get up and stop him, but, before he could act further, the tiger planted himself across Jonny's lap and refused to move.

"You're looking pretty tired," Adam said. "Maybe we should do something else for a while."

Jonny shrugged, seeming a little depressed. Benton relaxed back, glancing at the queen, who smiled. "I told you Adam would handle it," she said softly. Benton nodded and watched with some worry. Jonny didn't react well to being laid up for any reason. Keeping him in bed when he had the flu was the most exhausting task he'd ever faced.

Then Bandit, starting at the tiger's tail, began climbing and sniffing his way up the animal's back. He stopped right in front of Jonny's face and began to lick his nose.

"Bandit!" Jonny exclaimed, laughing. "Stop it!"

The feline, whose skin had been twitching in reaction to the little dog's climbing, turned his head and looked at Bandit over his shoulder. Bandit turned towards him and for a moment they were nose to nose. Then Cringer reached out and picked Bandit up by his collar and drew him down between his front legs. Benton half expected Jonny to panic, but the boy just leaned so that he could see his dog. The tiger then sniffed Bandit over very carefully, then, giving Adam a disgusted look, started cleaning the dog with a tongue that was half the mutt's size.

Jonny and Hadji both started laughing, and Jonny said, "Are there a lot of these around?" he asked.

"No!" Benton said firmly, and his sons turned to him in surprise. "How would we explain a yellow and green tiger?" he asked.

Hadji, knitting his eybrows, nodded. Jonny said, "We could dye his fur."

"No!" Jonny's shoulders slumped briefly, but after a moment he started scratching Cringer.

"Don't worry," Marlena said. "Eternian tigers are actually very rare."

"Really?" Benton said. "That's a relief."

"And few of them are as smart as Cringer," Randor added.

As if aware that they were speaking of him, the tiger turned his head and gave them a smug look. Then he returned to cleaning the small, struggling dog.

They ate dinner with the royal family and the captain of the guard. Everywhere he went, Benton reflected, he wound up in rarefied circles. When dinner was over, Adam and Teela took the boys aside to play a game, but just as the adults were discussing whether or not to find rooms for the boys so they could sleep, Duncan walked in. Teela was on her feet immediately and strode to her father's side. "The Sorceress asked me to help her prepare a couple of things for the spell, but she's ready, and she thinks we should do it today. Something about convergences."

Benton was on his feet at once. "What do we need to do?" he asked.

"Just come with me."

Benton turned to the king, holding out his hand. "Thank you for your help and your hospitality. Good luck in your battle against that wretch."

"Thank you," Randor said, gripping his hand tightly. "You'd better go quickly. The Sorceress doesn't do things in a rush unless she thinks it's very necessary."

He nodded, shook the queen's hand in turn and thanked Teela for her help. When he turned to gather the boys, he found that Adam had gotten them up and in order, Jonny holding Bandit in his arms. "I'll come too," he said.

Duncan nodded sharply, and within a very short time, Duncan, Adam, the boys and he were in a wind raider with Bandit. Cringer had wanted to come along, and the boys would have loved it, but the vehicle was very crowded as it was.

They flew out into the night, and Benton found himself feeling very nervous. The boys were quiet in the back seat with Adam while he sat beside Duncan, who was piloting the vehicle. "I very much appreciate all the help your people have given us," Benton said.

"It's no problem," Duncan replied. "In a way it's our fault you were taken."

"That's specious reasoning," Benton said irritably. "I wouldn't blame myself if Zin captured -"

"Zin?"

"The local megalomaniac. For some unimaginable reason he wants to rule the world, and sees me as the chief obstacle to his plots." Duncan nodded. "Now, I wouldn't blame myself if Zin captured your king in an attempt to obtain me." Duncan glanced sideways at him, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, so I probably would. But it doesn't make the reasoning valid."

"No, I suppose not." They were silent, and Benton was aware of the young prince keeping his sons busy in the back seat so that they wouldn't have time to get nervous. "I wish we had met under less unpleasant circumstances," Duncan said suddenly. "I think it would be nice to have you as friends."

"Yes, I think you're right. But it seems unlikely that we'll meet again, given the circumstances"

"I know. Teela and Adam seem very fond of yours sons."

"They're good kids. Teela and Adam I mean."

A few minutes later they landed outside a vast castle of stone, built in the shape of a skull. Benton turned to see Hadji looking at it curiously. "Your ancient peoples liked to build things in the shape of objects or living creatures, didn't they?"

Duncan let out a bark of laughter. "And you haven't even seen the fortress that used to contain the ram stone. It's true, young man."

"I hadn't really thought of that," Adam said as he helped the boys out of the windraider.

"A fish does not think about the water," Hadji said.

"What?" Adam asked.

"No one understands Hadji when he gets like that," Jonny groaned.

"I meant that if you grow up with something, you would not consider it odd or unusual," Hadji said with freezing dignity.

"I see," Adam said. "I suppose that's reasonable."

"How do we get in?" Jonny asked, looking over at the castle. Benton gazed at the imposing edifice, wondering just how it had been built. As they approached the stone ledge of a draw bridge, he could see that it rested atop a narrow splinter of rock in the midst of a great abyss.

He looked over at Duncan. "I can think of a half dozen geologists who would give their eyeteeth to get a look at your planet and its geothermal make up and substructure."

"Indeed? What exactly is a geologist?"

"In simplest terms, a geologist is a scientist who studies rock and mineral formations. We have a lot of very specialized sciences. I'm rather unusual in that I hold degrees in and do work in a number of fields."

"I don't believe we have things separated quite so thoroughly," Duncan said.

"Whoa!" Jonny breathed.

"My goodness," Hadji murmured.

Benton looked up and saw the massive drawbridge lowering slowly. It landed with a booming thud, causing dirt and pebbles to scatter. It was a simple bridge of wooden slats, not all of which looked all that trustworthy, but Duncan started forward without hesitation. When Benton followed him inside, Adam stayed close to the boys, for which Benton was grateful. This structure was awe-inspiring, and it was good that Jonny and Hadji had someone to ask their questions of since Benton was almost as stunned as they were.

"Does architecture here include magic?" he asked.

"Some of the ancient structures were built partially with magical aid," Duncan said. "But not any longer. The palace at Eternos was built by solid engineering."

Benton snorted. "Ah, religion."

Duncan turned to him, seeming startled. "What?"

"Well, most of the engineers I know regard the field as a kind of religion."

Adam let out an amused snort. "He's sure got you pegged, Duncan!" he exclaimed.

Benton gave the man an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I didn't -"

"No, I suppose you're right, actually. I designed the palace, by the way, and was the foreman of the construction in the first place, and during both the reconstructions."

"Both?" Jonny exclaimed.

Benton heard Adam speaking in a reassuring voice. "Earthquakes can be very destructive." Duncan glowered briefly, which made Benton wonder what exactly had happened, though he was just as glad the prince hadn't explained the details to Hadji and Jonny. The boys had enough to worry about just now.

The corridors were dark and cavernous. Finally, they reached a large hall that was brightly lit. He squinted his eyes against the light and made out the figure of a woman flying toward them. "Is that an angel?" Jonny asked breathlessly. Benton could see why. She had magnificent white wings springing from her shoulders. Her garb was as outlandish as that of the other sorceress, and of Teela's, but in an entirely different way. There seemed to be an almost Egyptian theme to her garments, and she wore them with an air of great dignity and mystical certainty that made them come across as the robes of a high priestess or an goddess. Her skin was pale, and she had vivid green eyes whose color was intensified by the shapes that were painted in green beneath them. A headdress in the shape of a falcon's head crowned her regally.

"No," Adam said with a smothered laugh in his voice. "This is the Sorceress." He put a hand on each boy's back and led them forward. "Sorceress, this is Jonny and Hadji and their dog, Bandit. He reminds me a lot of Cringer, only braver."

Benton stepped forward. "I am Dr. Benton Quest," he said, holding out his hand. The woman looked at him oddly, but took it in a firm handshake. He noticed Duncan's eyes widening. "I appreciate the help you're giving my family."

"It is the right thing to do," she said, her voice low and musical. "You have been torn out of the continuum of your home world, disrupting the balance. Further, your absence is causing great distress to those who love you."

"You know that?" Jonny asked.

"She is an oracle, Jonny," Hadji said, his voice soft with awe.

She rested her hand on Hadji's head. "That is quite true." She looked over at Benton. "I do hope this young man is receiving proper training in his gifts?" she asked.

Benton's eyes widened. "There isn't anyone to teach him. On our world his sort of abilities are extremely rare."

"And you must be exceedingly careful in choosing such an instructor. I will see what I can do."

"Thank you," Benton said, wondering just what that meant. What could she possibly do to influence the teaching Hadji would receive back home? And how was he to know what to look for in a teacher of the arcane arts?

"If you three, and Bandit, will step into this circle, I will send you home."

Benton looked where she was pointing. He turned to Duncan and said, "Please give your daughter, Randor and He-Man our thanks for all they have done, and thank you." Duncan nodded. Then he turned to Prince Adam. "Thank you for helping keep the boys calm and occupied. It's a gift beyond price. And please pass my thanks on to your mother for keeping me calm and occupied."

"Of course, sir," Adam said. "It was a pleasure, and I will tell my mother."

With that done, he put his arms around the boys' shoulders and guided them into the circle. He turned them back to face the Sorceress. When she could see he was ready, she raised her arms. Beams of light shone from her hands and created a sphere of light around them.

There was a long moment during which the world was nothing more than bright light, then as the light faded, he heard a very familiar voice.

"Benton! Jonny! Hadji!" Race launched himself at the boys and started looking them over. "Are you boys all right?"

"We're fine, Race!" Jonny said. "It was cool. We met a tiger and a man who looked like Conan and an angel."

"An oracle, Jonny. She was not an angel."

"Fine, an oracle, and a man with no face, and -"

Benton watched Race hugging the boys. His prematurely white hair was ruffled, the way it got when he'd been running his hands through it with worry. As if he could feel the weight of Benton's gaze, Race glanced up and grinned his relief at seeing them all safe and sound. The boys, however, hadn't stopped babbling. "Slow down," Race said, looking back and forth between them. "What do you mean no face?"

"He had no skin or flesh on his skull," Hadji said. "It had been burned away by acid."

"So this guy was dead?"

"No, he was alive, that was why it was frightening," Hadji said patiently. Race gave Benton an incredulous glance.

"It's true," he said. Race's eyes widened, and he turned back to listening to the boys' babbling. Benton looked around and saw that Phil Corvin was standing on the other side of the room, seeming, as always, slightly out of place in a lab. He was in a suit, dark hair trim and immaculate, and Benton could see that he was stunned almost beyond words. He walked over to the director of I-1. "How's your day been going, Phil?" he asked.

Phil blinked a couple of times, then shook his head. "Well, I got a call this morning saying that all three of you had vanished without a trace, so, all in all, it's been crappy. I haven't called the president yet, thank heavens. Where have you been?"

"That's kind of hard to explain," Benton said.

Then Jonny cried out in enthusiasm. "And I got hit by a spell from the guy with no face!"

"Hell!" Benton exclaimed. "You need a CATscan!"

"Dad, I'm fine! Don't you think the oracle lady would have told us if I'd had brain damage?"

Phil and Race were staring at Jonny with identical expressions of shocked horror. Benton said, "He took an electrical discharge directly to his right temple." Race and Corvin tranferred their appalled looks to Benton.

"Yeah, I missed the whole rescue," Jonny said disconsolately. "I rode on the big tiger and I didn't even know it." Race and Phil's heads swiveled again, reminding Benton of people at a tennis match.

"Race!" Benton snapped. "Call Dr. Mason and then get the car." Race turned and looked at him with a distinct lack of comprehension in his eyes. "Race!" he yelled.

"Yes, sir!"

"Call Barbara Mason. Get the car. Jonny needs a CATscan!" Race practically saluted and ran out of the lab.

"Dad! I'm fine."

"Well, I'm not!" Phil exclaimed. "What did you say hit him?"

"An electrical discharge."

"How did that happen?"

"Well, you see," Jonny started, but Benton cut him off to avoid the long, insane, explanation that was about to ensue.

"When they were about to be rescued, the villain held a weapon to his head and when Hadji attacked to try and free Jonny, the weapon discharged."

"Is that what happened?" Jonny asked. Benton nodded. Jonny glanced at Hadji. "Did you get him?"

"Not exactly. He threw me across the room."

"What?" Phil exclaimed. "Are you hurt?"

"I was not injured," Hadji said. "A man with wings on his arms caught me."

Benton could see that Phil was assuming that 'wings on his arms' meant something akin to a uniform or a tattoo. He wasn't going to correct the impression.

"These kids get thrown all the time, Phil," Benton said reassuringly. Oddly, Phil didn't seem to find this reassuring.

Benton shook his head. "I'll give you a more detailed explanation later, Phil."

* * *

Evil-Lyn lay on her stomach on her bed, aching from the punishments Skeletor had visited upon her. One day she would make him pay for every last insult he had given her, but today was not that day.

A bevy of fire spirits were clustered invisibly along the back of her body, ministering to the aches and pains as best they could, easing the effects of Skeletor's tortures. Eyes slitted with pleasure at the sensation, she gazed across her bedroom at a single object sitting on the table. It was a glass vial with an extremely narrow neck that broadened out conically to a wide circular base. It yet retained the aura of Benton Quest.

Perhaps a careful exploitation of this small object could hasten the day of Skeletor's demise, she thought lazily, then closed her eyes and relaxed into the massage.


End file.
